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Does being good pay?

A bad penny always turns up..
I once believed, bad trees do not
Yield good apples, but I was wrong
When I saw men disturbing peace
Breaking black pipes, blowing up streets
Fetching from the National cake.

I saw “Malams”, apprehending men
Slitting sacrificial lambs,
Terrorizing the governments.
I saw folks, blending in dark bushes
Joining the gangs causing havoc;
The type that makes the Devil proud.

Funnily, those we call miscreants
Are to governments, faithful ants
To keep them hush, they grease their palms
Flying them out as amnesty
Coming back, they even contest
Dictating for governance.

But here we are as good people
Eating the scraps and leftovers
Of the miscreants who live large.
Good conscience may be good pillow
Certainly not in our headless
Societies, with so much unrest.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Underdeveloped

To get a cash cow, bend and take a bow
That we did, till now; we have been at a spot

Stagnant like the lakes, our roots seems to shake
New sprouts overtakes, not that we are lost

Neither do we not know which way to go…
But seas fail to flow while dark seems to glow.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Standing on time bomb

No parachutes, down I fell
Into the hot pit of hell

Roasting up in everyday
On the queue to better days

Sadly, I am the laughing stock
But I do not give a single fuck!

Against all odds, with an aim
To have success, my name to claim

Under lit candles I bent my neck
Hoping the sky will give me a perk

But the blurred dark cloud extended
Turning lionhearted to an hen,

If you were me, what will you do
When legit fails to pay the dues.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The stratum debates.

Every new born, sound out,
“My own stratum, stands out”

What have you done that has
Never been done before?

Every new born sound out,
“My own stratum stands out”

Whereas they are all same
Actions performed anew.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Marriage: Her disturbances

I picked up a four leaf clover
And her love has taken over
To points of disturbances…
At times things I don’t fancy
Are what she chokes on me
Like anklets on a heavy heel
And beautiful icing on a cake
She mix trouble into sweet flakes
Whose true taste is in the eating
And rude polite awakening,

My wife, my world, the joy I chose
Tender and sweet like tiger toes
No hedge between keeps the home green
Her philosophy, no vent spleen.
The moon wanes while the roaster crows
Over my body she will roll
Waking me up against my wish
Stuck on me, my heart she fills
Her disturbances have a sauce
Apart from her, no better source.

©2019 Http://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Finding tracks

We are in abundance
Yet we complain of darkness.

Inside pits, that are shallow;
We hide behind the shadow.

Our melanin we pour ore
Under the hot scorching sun;

Hot-cakes fly like birds, to lands
Where they can be better brands.

Leaving behind, the half baked
To dictate, the give and take,

Talking; whereas, as critics
We bury the beams and rays

Yet we beg for candlelights
From the waxes we burnt out.

Http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sentimentalism

No man owns the great soil we stand
But our bloods are shed on this land
Skulls we count brings hatred to mind
North, South, East and West pick hand.

The golden ball is on your court
Wonder why it is difficult ?
The tender feelings never die
Nostalgia continues to fly.

Brains build an evil monument
One bad thing about sentiment
Is that she writes an alibi
Defending her all actions and

Those of her tribes, sisters, brothers,
Dad and mum, sons and her daughters
Whether they are guilty or not
Exculpation she drops alot.

We all have narratives to share
But do we have to destroy selves
When an atom of peace and love
Would give unity strengthen globe.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Maiden of old times (3)

One crazy thing about our obsession
Was that, flash she ran, we saw slow motions
Basking in the euphoria of passion.
Elusive as she dressed, we could draw her
Shapes and curves, singing viva forever
Men, born and unborn would love to wife her.

Her unguilt make babies fight for her womb
Men saying; “I love you”, was like a bomb
Bringing Twilight of the gods on all tombs.
And as she heard, her sweet eyes always hide
We were all fools and love was truly blind
Not now, love is by size of rubber bands.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Maidens of old time (2)

The old time maidens drove a hard bargain
Their smiles were contagious as their own names
Wooing and getting them were men’s main aim,

Bright-eyed, brushy-tailed many men were bent
Traveling the world to get her some wealth
Praying she accepts values he shall get.

But these days, many sample nakedness
On social medias, ask and you shall get,
Her privacy she flaunts outside her nest.

Stealing of hearts, has been demystified
Give her purse, she’s a digger of gold
Unlike the sweet virtuous maidens of old.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Maiden of old times (Part 1)

The maidens of old times always stood out
Hiding in long gowns, fashion didn’t shout.

Hotness transmuted from an ancient dress code
She was shy yet, bold in men’s seventh cloud.

Now, long gowns are replaced with bras and pants
Nudity rewards are fashion effort.

Seems like maidens of old were Rivers dammed
Whose water over time, forced their way out.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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